The Mark
by musefatale
Summary: Snape/Voldemort. Written in 2005


The Mark

The room around Severus Snape was so dark that the only thing he could see was the white masks of Lord Voldemort's followers surrounding him with their black, blank eyes that seemed to seer into his soul - questioning, accusing him of some crime he had not yet committed. He knew that they knew what he would become once this exhibition was completed. They knew what would soon come and he could see their sinisterly smiling faces from beneath the pure and mockingly holy white reticence.

Severus held tight to the wrist of Lucius Malfoy. Lucius graduated in Severus' first year at Hogwarts, but their families had been friends for as long as the two boys could remember. Lucius was the one who finally convinced Severus to join the Death Eaters, that is to say the followers of Lord Voldemort. Not even Severus' best friend, Helios, a member since their fourth year, could convince him to come here. Severus silently wondered if Helios was here, watching this. In the dark light, it was hard to discern one person from the next. Even Lucius was wearing the eerie white mask as all the others were.

A figure stepped out of the circle and removed his ghostly white mask. The air caught in Severus' throat as he tried to gasp. The man's eyes were as green as ripe olives and his hair curled around his strong, handsome face with a strong jaw and high, regal cheekbones. This was Voldemort, Severus thought, a shiver running up his spine causing the tiny hairs on the back of his neck to stand at attention. Moments later, Lucius took his place among the other Death Eaters and the circle closed in on Severus...

A strong hand closed on Severus' shoulders. Its fingers reached under his robe and pulled it off him. Severus turned and looked at the masked figure. All of them looked the same to him and none of them spoke. His tie was swiftly removed as was his belt, and he was shaking with fear by the time Voldemort's long, thin fingers started unbuttoning the row of buttons on his crumpled white shirt. Severus looked around the room at the wall of black robes. Voldemort's fingers started at the fly of the boy's trousers as the other Death Eaters removed his shirt from his body and placed neatly on the table with the rest of his clothing. It was at this time the crowd parted, revealing a small table with what looked like four wooden splints sticking out in an X shape. Severus started to shake compulsively as a pair of strong arms lifted him up from around his waist while Voldemort took a step back into the darkness and allowed another one of his followers to pull Severus' trousers and boxer shorts off.

The one who held him carried him over to the table and laid him facedown, binding his hands and feet to the splints she that only his face and hips were free from the harsh, dry wood he was bound to. Severus tried to squirm against the restraints, in an effort to see what was going on around him. He could only manage to wrench his neck a little too each side without causing himself excruciating pain. He could see nothing but a hundred black eyes staring down at him and waiting...

He felt Voldemort behind him long before the Dark Lord's icy cold hands touched the bare flesh of his back, tracing down his spine and across his buttocks and down the backs of his thighs. There was a swish of fabric against Severus' legs and he knew... he knew that the worst part was yet to come.

Severus craned his neck around to see a figure standing at his left arm with a long needle attached to a piece of wood and a bottle of black ink. He remembered now what Lucius had warned him on their way here: Do not scream or cry, do not struggle or flinch, do not show any sign of weakness, and do not show them that they are hurting you. Lucius neglected to tell him what to do instead. Did he pretend to enjoy it? Did he just lay there and let it happen? These questions were bashed into oblivion in the next moment...

It was as if someone had ripped him in half. He had felt pain before, but never like this. Not even the nights where Lucius Floo-ed into his dormitory through the vast Slytherin fireplaces could have prepared him for the feeling of his flesh and insides ripping apart. His head bucked back and he tried to rip against the restraints. He wanted to scream so badly, but the sound caught in the back of his throat, unable to break through the absolute agony that stripped him of all his senses. Voldemort laughed mockingly from behind him as another strap added to each of his arms up by the shoulders to hold him firmly in place to the wooden table. Hatred and disgust swelled up in his throat like bile and Voldemort's cold, almost dead hands held firmly to his shoulders, making him virtually paralyzed. Endless torture ran though his veins from the searing black spell that coursed through him.

Sharp pain ripped through his arm then down his spine inching its way towards Voldemort from the enchanted needle ripping apart the flesh of his arm. The scent of blood filled the room in a sharp, metallic flavor. The ink seared green the moment that it hit his skin, illuminating the room in an eerie glow. Blinding hot white light clouded his vision as a sinister laugh broke through the air as his entire body convulsed with pain.

Severus was positive that he passed out about five seconds later. Coming to for brief moments with the pain stopped, then shuddered to life again as another body took the place of the last behind him. He felt Lucius' comforting hand on his back as the older boy whispered calming spells in a language that only the two of them knew. Severus wondered again if Helios was taking any part in this sadistic ritual. He blacked out permanently nearly three hours from the time he had first entered this small, dark room.

When he finally woke up, he was in more pain than he had ever been in, even though the bed beneath him was softer than anything he had ever laid on, and the soft, deep breathing of sleeping Lucius next to him was comforting to his worn and shaking body. Lucius' long and nimble fingers wrapped in Severs' as the pair lay under a soft quilt.

Severus looked around the unfamiliar room, not knowing where he was or why he was there. Lucius stirred and looked over sleepily at Severus, a strand of his perfect golden hair falling in his penetrating steel blue eyes. Severus smiled softly despite of the pain.

"Where are we?" Severus asked.

"My room, I thought it would be best to bring you here after the ceremony was all over and everything. You father was a little disappointed in how you responded." He replied.

"How the hell was I supposed to act?" Severus asked, sitting up abruptly, and then realizing that was the worst decision he had ever made and quickly laid back down on his side.

"There is no way specifically." Lucius said. "Your brother didn't pass out when it happened to him. I did. So don't you worry, it's not uncommon." He finished, running his fingers over the throbbing tattoo on Severus' left forearm. "It looks good on you." He smiled.


End file.
